


This Heartbeat

by Black_Teapot



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Obi-Wan Kenobi, Alpha Qui-Gon Jinn, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst with a Happy Ending, Clone Wars, F/M, Gay Obi-Wan Kenobi, Homosexuality, Homosexuality in A/B/O universe, Jinnobi Challenge 2020, Light Dysphoria, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Pansexual Qui-Gon Jinn, Pegging, Queer Themes, Qui-Gon Jinn Lives, Sad gay boy -until he's not sad at all, Self-Discovery, Sex Toys, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:54:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27133480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_Teapot/pseuds/Black_Teapot
Summary: The thing is, the universe likes its contradictions.Some Alphas aren’t born to play with the same rules..The War is raging through the Galaxy but Master Obi-Wan Kenobi isn't alone on the battlefield. There is a scent accompanying him.Citrus, nuts, resinous.Qui-Gon..A story of self-discovery.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze (minor), Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 12
Kudos: 114





	This Heartbeat

**Author's Note:**

> Force, I'm so glad to share this story with you!  
> This is my contribution to the Jinnobi Challenge 2020; please, don't hesitate to click on the tag to discover the other writer's works! This story was supposed to be short as I have a WIP. However, I can't do short. Especially on a subject like this one.
> 
> "This heartbeat" is a love letter to the queer community and to all of us who had to learn that they didn't have to play by other's rules. 
> 
> Enjoy.

Master Kenobi stared at the battlefield. Droid parts were littering the ground and the earth had turned black and red from the blaster’s shots and artillery fire. The injured clones had already been taken in charge by the medics. Only the dead remained. Pale white patches of plastoid armor stood out on the ground, marking their position. The three planet’s suns would set in an hour or two; they would have time to gather them for final rites before they moved to the next city.

A relief, for once.

The Jedi’s sensitive nose picked up the smell of desperation and the sweat the Alpha and Beta clones had emitted during the battle. It was always the same old tune: cold metallic B1 battle droids didn’t leave any scent behind them, nothing the Alpha’s sense of smell could pick up. Even in the middle of the most intense warfare, he could barely catch the faint tang of the Geonosian lubricant used to facilitate their movements.

It made them more unpredictable, less traceable.

Easier to kill, too.

Because compassion was simpler to avoid when you couldn’t scent the latent fear and the death of your victim.

Obi-Wan sighed and turned his back to the silent battlefield, ready to join his men in the hastily put up camp. His leather boots were slipping a bit on the battered soil, manhandled by so many thundering feet of late. Cody welcomed him as he walked past the ring of vehicles surrounding the base. “General, I was waiting for you. The causalities weren’t as high as we feared, today.”

The Jedi Master gave a tired smile to his fellow Alpha. “I’m glad of it, Commander.”

Cody wasn’t moved by his efforts. Obi-Wan could feel the weight of his disapproving look even through his painted helmet. “It’s not hard to understand those low numbers when you remember the diversion you offered us on the battlefield.” The clone sighed as he continued. “Please, don’t do it again. We need someone to lead the unit, you know.”

Obi-Wan chuckled ungracefully, suddenly losing chunks of his General’s skin, tiredness falling on his shoulders. His Alpha’s hormones, stimulated by the battle, were slowly going down. Soon, the odours surrounding him would feel less invasive, the noises less threatening. He couldn’t wait to be near something familiar, something _smoothing_ …

“General Jinn wants to discuss our next step with you. He’s waiting in the main tent.”

Obi-Wan grinned and gestured at his Commander. “Lead the way, then. I’m right behind you as always, Cody.”

* * *

**The Initiate.**

Obi-Wan had always been certain that he would become an Omega.

When he was still a youngling, he would follow his Crechemaster everywhere with wide eyes, adoring his peacefulness and assurance, this _je ne sais quoi_ which emanated from him and calmed even the most stressed Jedi.

He engraved those virtues deep inside his heart as he grew, wanting to become the kind of man brave enough to sow peace where it is easier to cultivate fear. For this reason, he tried to stand up to bullies and excel himself in his lessons -because being peaceful didn’t mean being passive.

You had to be strong to face so much adversity without flinching.

Obi-Wan became fast friend with Bant –a Mon Calamari girl who was never an Alpha, a Beta or an Omega as her species didn’t have a second gender, with soft-spoken Garen and timid Luminara. They made Crechemaster Theore smiled, the Omega watching over them as they spoke of adventures, discoveries and mysteries.

The young man caressed his short hair sometimes, when Obi-Wan was sick or when his knees were bloody from defending Bant before Bruck –because contrary to what the Initiate thought, living without second gender didn’t mean being an animal. Crechemaster Theore would comfort him afterwards, murmuring soft words, telling him what a brave and fierce Omega he would make.

The youngling could almost see him, the Omega Knight with auburn hair who defended peace and justice, armed with a pale blue lightsaber.

Obi-Wan couldn’t wait to be him.

…

Obi-Wan’s first crush happened when he was six. Crush was a big word, as the youngling was still knee-high to a grasshopper. He stared at Knight Sar Labooda, a tall, young female Alpha with dark skin and fire in her eyes as she visited the Creche and decided that he was in love. Her scent was spicy and warm, making him think of the incense used sometimes during their evening meditation time. It was nothing like Crechemaster Theore’s soft floral undertone.

It was bewitching.

Obi-Wan followed her everywhere during her tour, gazing at her with blue soulful eyes each time she looked at him. His attitude made her smile indulgently and she let the Initiate become her little shadow for one day.

She never came back to the Creche but Obi-Wan carried her memory for many weeks in his small heart.

…

[Master Yoda’s presence was always a joyful event for the younglings.

Theore, for his part, was happy to give news of his charges to the Great Master of the Order.

“Here, next to the window; you can see Bruch Chun. He has quite a temper –a budding Alpha if I ever saw one. I hope Aalto’s influence will help him to settle in the next few years.” The Crechemaster pointed out another group. “On the green rug, there’s the _gang_ : Bant Eerin, Luminara Undulli, Garen Muln and Obi-Wan Kenobi. Luminara already as an affinity with the Living Force. Garen’s less of a scholar but he’s good with his hands. And Obi-Wan… He’s a sensitive and affectionate child, advanced in lightsaber work. I think he’ll make a great Omega Knight.”

Master Yoda hummed and slowly shook his head. “Talk so quickly about a youngling’s second gender, you shouldn’t. Surprises, there may still be. Influence their expectations on this subject, we shouldn’t.”

Theore didn’t answered to his injunction, only nodding in agreement before he continued his presentation. But he meditated on those words during the evening. He never called Obi-Wan his sweet and brave little Omega again.]

…

Obi-Wan encountered Siri Tachi when he was twelve. She was a month younger than him but the girl moved as if she was already a world ahead of him. The blond-haired human had already presented as an Alpha –a rarity considering her young age.

She was also chosen earlier than most as a Padawan by Master Gallia.

Siri was temperamental, headstrong, sometimes downright judgemental and socially awkward. She also was kind, prompt to help those who couldn’t defend themselves and always up to a challenge. When Obi-Wan was with her, he had the sensation to be brought up to the top.

The Alpha was wicked in lightsaber combat. One day, she pinned Obi-Wan to the ground, sitting on his torso as her arms restrained his hands. Her short Padawan braid had tickled his nose. Siri had grinned like a shark, telling him she had won the match.

Her wild scent –like a bonfire and a brewing storm, had hit his nostrils hard and he had breathed-in like a drowned boy. His heart had beaten so fast, he remembered, as if it was going to fly out of his chest.

Her blond braid had whipped the air as she had gotten up again. Obi-Wan had stared at her retreating silhouette and had thought: _so, this is love, then_.

…

Obi-Wan had always been certain that he would become an Omega. Maybe that’s the reason why the day he had presented as an Alpha had been so terrible. 

* * *

Master Kenobi pushed the flap aside and entered in the main tent, right behind his Commander. The safe space was already crowd, Jedi and clones alike gathered around a large rectangular table. It was an ugly grey plastoid thing, the kind of furniture made to be more sturdy and utilitarian than comfortable. Obi-Wan was sure it would survive every hasty moving and every tiring campaign his battalion would make. It might even outlast him. _What a pity_.

“Gentlemen, here we are.”

Anakin turned around and gave him a large crooked smile. “It was quite the diversion you pull up earlier, Obi-Wan! If only you had seen Ventress’s face!”

“I saw her back and it was quite enough for me,” the Jedi Master joked as he joined them. “Maybe next time!”

A low voice came from the other side of the table. “Please, Anakin. Do not encourage him. He clearly doesn’t need it.”

Obi-Wan raised his eyes and stared at his former Master. The battle had left traces on him. His beige tunic was torn near the sleeves’ ends –which wasn’t very surprising as the man had never been able to stay pristine very long. He remembered all the times he had seen Qui-Gon wearing wrinkled robes on their couch or spotting stained sleeves during important negotiations. The Jedi Master had never cared about his appearance –only indulging his apprentice with a smile when Obi-Wan couldn’t bear it anymore. However, his breastplate, white with green paint representing the Order’s symbol, was intact, which was a good sign. The General remembered seeing Ahsoka, Anakin’s young apprentice, draw it a few days after she met his Great-Grand Master on Christophsis.

The man always had a weakness for young promising life-forms.

Qui-Gon’s half-smile warmed his insides. The other man’s skin was a bit pale due to the dust coming from the planet’s ground and his eyes were crinkled in tiredness as much as in humour. His long hair was tied backwards by a simple leather bond and seemed a bit scruffy.

Obi-Wan’s heart hurt a bit in his chest, when he looked at him.

The Jedi Master ignored the sensation. He grinned and, feeling Cody’s growing headache, chose to spare him more anxiety. “I’m not going to do this every day Anakin, even if you liked it. We need a better plan for the upcoming days –one that doesn’t require radical live-saving action.”

No more words were needed as they took their place around the table. Obi-Wan made the mistake to breathe in too deeply near Anakin and cringed, every one of his muscles freezing in a fight-or-flee reflex. The musk coming from his former apprentice’s skin was too much to bear, the battle-ready Alpha pheromones aggressing his senses, making him feel as if his life and possessions were threatened. Obi-Wan consciously relaxed his body, breathing shallowly through his mouth.

The clones’ scent was biologically engineered to be lighter and more bearable than naturally born Alpha and Beta’s.

His former apprentice’s odour was not. _And what a pungent smell…._

Obi-Wan concentrated to the best of his abilities on their tactical talk as Cody projected a pale blue hologram on the table’s surface, mapping the sector. “Our base is here,” the Commander pointed out, a red tent appearing on the map near his finger. “And our next objective is Tokadola’s town.” A small city was underlined in orange. “The Separatist Forces are already regrouping in it. They will have the higher ground.”

“So we need an inventive way to reach them without being under fire for too long,” Qui-Gon resumed, scratching his messy beard. 

“What about this crest, thirty klicks to the west? Could we position ourselves there?” Obi-Wan inquired.

“That’s worth considering, General. We could send AT-RT to explore it quietly. I’ll contact Trapper and Tracker,” his Commander suggested.

“And All Terrain Tactical Enforcer would withstand to be under fire for a short time,” Anakin continued.

Obi-Wan hummed in agreement. The wind turned and the tent’s entrance flapped loudly. Anakin’s pungent smell disappeared, carried on the other side of the camp. In its place, Qui-Gon’s natural musk brushed his nostrils. 

_Citrus. Nuts. Resinous. Something intensely him._

Obi-Wan inhaled deeply Qui-Gon’s scent, his eyes fluttering against his will. The last tensions created by the battle faded away and he let himself be lulled by this well-known fragrance as he agreed with Cody’s suggestions.

* * *

**The Padawan.**

Obi-Wan was fourteen and life had never felt so senseless, so unjust. He stood naked in the fresher, his hands gripping the white-and-cold sink as bitter emotions seemed to chew his stomach.

A light fever ran through his veins while his scent changed –the most perceptible of his body’s modification. His neck and his very bones hurt, sweat covered his pale skin. His lower body throbbed, too. _But that was something he didn’t want to think about._

His prepubescent scent was shifting, evolving. One thing was sure: he was _not_ developing a light and subtle flowery fragrance. The teenager could vaguely smell cedar and rain enveloping his bent body. An unexpected feeling of nausea rose inside him and Obi-Wan barely avoided to retch in the washbasin.

An Alpha. He was presenting as an Alpha.

_What was he going to do, now?_

A light knock on the door caught his attention. Obi-Wan could feel his Master’s concern through the Force. “Obi-Wan, are you alright?”

The teenager didn’t know how to say no, so he remained silent.

Obi-Wan heard the man hesitating behind the door for a moment. Then Master Jinn said lowly: “When you’ll be ready to leave the fresher, I’ll be in the living room. If you want to talk –or anything else…”

His steps strayed away from the door, leaving Obi-Wan to his thoughts. The teenager let his head fall, resting his forehead on the small and cold mirror. His mind was reeling, caught in an infernal loop. _His whole life had been turned on its head. The future he expected was null. What was he going to do?_

Because there had to be something wrong with him, no? He tried very hard not to think about it, but Knight Sar Labooda’s dark bewitching eyes and Siri Tachi’s brash and wild attitude seemed imprinted on his retina. _Alphas. Both Alphas. …and him, too?_

When Obi-Wan finally dried his tears, he felt strangely empty. As if someone had carved his abdomen with a vibroblade. He put on a tunic and light pants before he walked awkwardly to the living room. His aching limbs disagreed with him, making him wince with each painfully added step.

To his surprise, Master Qui-Gon was really waiting for him on the couch. A steaming teapot was resting on the table beside him. Obi-Wan vaguely wondered how many times the Jedi Master had re-heated it. His long hair flew on his shoulder like a mane. The teenager’s nose had no difficulty to pick up his familiar scent; the Alpha’s beige tunic was ruffled and could bear to see a washing machine.

The man clearly didn’t know what to do with his red tear-swollen eyes –he certainly hadn’t had such a negative reaction to his own presentation. Qui-Gon couldn’t understand why this new would be so terrible for his apprentice. How could he imagine the storm going through his student’s mind?

However, despite his lack of understatement, he still tried to offer what little comfort he could to the teenager. “I made you a cuppa, Obi-Wan. Black Alderaanian, your favourite.”

The Padawan joined him without speaking. He knew how much this tea cost –and wondered what his Master had to give away to get his hands on a few leaves. He grimaced as he tucked his legs behind his bottom on the couch and leaned on the other man’s side. Qui-Gon rubbed a hand over his shoulders and hugged him tightly. Obi-Wan tasted the red tea and closed his eyes as the hot drink warmed his stomach.

The situation hadn’t gotten better. But here, on the couch with Qui-Gon and hot tea in him, Obi-Wan could believe that all was not lost.

…

His first rut started a few weeks later. Obi-Wan studiously didn’t think about it; it was Qui-Gon who prepared them for it. The Alpha buzzed around their quarter like an insomniac bee, bringing new sheets from the quartermaster, nuts and nutritious foods from the dining hall. He filled glass bottles with water and put them away in Obi-Wan’s cupboards.

“You need to get ready Obi-Wan. The next few days will be intense. You’ll need to drink often, to remind yourself to eat. I put clean towels on the rack and a scentless soap in the fresher to use when you’ll want to shower. Believe me –it’s something you’ll desire during your rut.”

Obi-Wan almost replied sarcastically that it would be the first time the man thought of cleaning something –but he closed his mouth and bit his tongue instead. His Master didn’t deserve to bear the weight of his foul mood. He had been nothing but helpful and supportive.

“If you need anything, comm me. I’ll be a few doors away.”

The teenager froze, his hand on his bedroom door. The vulnerability who was eating him became suddenly unbearable. “You’re going away?” He regretted those words as soon as they left his mouth.

His teacher looked at him, his body already half-turned toward the exit. The man’s ears were red with embarrassed as he explained the teenager basic biology. “Your pheromones will spike during your rut. It’s normal –but hard to bear for other Alphas. The doors can’t be sealed; the odour will fill our quarters. So it’s not a good idea that I stay in it during your rut. It would make this moment more difficult for both of us.”

The answer felt like a weight on his stomach. Qui-Gon touched his elbow gently before he left, letting Obi-Wan alone in their living room. Dark matter filled his stomach as he slowly entered into his bedroom. The Padawan walked toward his bed, taking off his tunic and lying on his mattress.

Obi-Wan’s body’s temperature rose a little as diffuse arousal started to course through his veins. He passed the time reading an astronavigation holobook, until he felt too bothered to focus on the complex calculations. The teenager sighed as he switched off the bright screen.

It wasn’t that Obi-Wan hated his body. The recent changes he had to undergo had just been so unexpected. It was just difficult to accept these transformations –and what it meant for him.

The teenager gave up on his distractions and stared at the white ceiling, focusing on his body’s signals. His abdomen was tense, as if waiting for something to happen. As if he stood at a decisive point, just at the edge of the battered cliff. Obi-Wan put his hands on his bare chest without second thoughts, just to feel his heart beat quickly under his palms.

His emotions were a tangled mess. The teenager felt _curious_ , a bit scared, impatient, a bit aroused. He had still so many things to understand about himself.

Obi-Wan slid his fingers down, on his trembling stomach, between his legs. He gently grabbed himself and sighed in bliss. His digits slowly mapped the skin at the base of his sex, discovering with curiosity the shape of his growing knot. He kneaded lightly and decided, eyes fluttering, that he liked this sensation.

As he touched himself, a part of Obi-Wan wondered how it would feel, to caress someone’s hot skin. To smell his partner’s heavy and desirable scent on the sheets. To press their knot tightly together between their woven hands.

The young Alpha breathed in loudly. He gripped the side of his bed with his right hand and waited for the wave to come.

…

People talked about it quite easily: Alphas had difficulties to bear one another’s scent when their pheromones were high. They lived it as an intrusion, a contest, a call to fight and chase the intruder out of their territory.

_Master Tholme and his Padawan Quinlan Vos were both Alphas. Their duo was a remarkable one, their mind in sync and their lightsaber skills deadly. The two Jedi loved each other very much, too; the grey-haired Jedi had met his future apprentice when he was still a youngling on his birth planet, Kiffu. He had mentored him during his years in the Creche, helping him to master his difficult temper._

_Yes, those two Alphas were close –some would say they were the closest thing to a family they could ever have._

_However, they couldn’t bear to be near each other during their ruts. After a first disastrous experiment, Quinlan had to find another room to spend his cycle, far away from his mentor._

The thing was, the universe liked its contradictions. Some Alphas weren’t born to play with the same rules.

_Obi-Wan could understand why his Master chose to leave their quarter for the duration of his rut. Still, he felt lonely. Tired and not so curious anymore, he waddled into the living room, searching for a comforting spot, something well-known to help him. His eyes finally stopped on Qui-Gon’s favourite chair. It was a large beast, a bit ugly, with thick stuffing. The Jedi Master had moved it near the window and the daylight didn’t do any favour to its dark shade of green. The used armrests were peppered with brownish tea strains. Obi-Wan never mocked it as this chair was also criminally comfortable._

_Master Tahl, his teacher’s dear friend, had less restraint. She openly hated it, making fun of Qui-Gon for keeping it._

_The Padawan walked towards the large chair and curled on the thick cushion in his underwear, his head hidden beneath his arms. His nose was particularly sensitive since the beginning of his rut and Obi-Wan could smell his Master’s scent on the stained and tired fabric. He tensed, waiting for the disgust to cloy his nostrils._

_It never happened._

_Qui-Gon’s essence –nutty, with lemon and sap –calmed him, like a balm put on a burn. Obi-Wan fell asleep there, on the ugly chair, comforted by the scent of home._

…

They discussed it when his rut ended. The two Jedi realised their scents weren’t going to be a problem.

Contrary to Quinlan, Obi-Wan never had to find another room to spend his rut. He also never felt lonely again. The noise of his teacher’s movements, coming from the living room, kept him company during those strange times.

…

“That’s another fulfilled mission to report, Master.”

“You do know that it’s not a competition Obi-Wan, don’t you?”

The teenager laughed brightly in the passenger’s seat, checking their flight plan and fuel oil levels. He turned his head toward his teacher, answering with a cheeky tone. “Of course, Master.”

Qui-Gon’s tangled long hair fell before his eyes as he shook his head. “What did I do to earn such a wilful Padawan?”

“You shouldn’t take pride in being a maverick if you don’t want me to follow your example.”

The older man sigh dramatically. “I guess it’s true. I’m condemned to live with your wit, then, my apprentice.” A comfortable pause stretched in the small cockpit. Qui-Gon raised the stirring bar and entered hyperspace almost in silence, the engines’ hum a feeble afterthought. Then the Jedi Master dropped a bomb, without even looking at him. “I’ve seen that the senator’s son took an interest in you during our mission. He appeared to be quite infatuated, in fact.”

Obi-Wan’s stomach fell into his boots. “Oh, that boy.”

Qui-Gon seemed to misunderstand his reluctance. “You do know that pursuing such relationships isn’t forbidden by the Jedi Code, don’t you?” As his Padawan didn’t answer, he continued to talk. To Obi-Wan’s distant horror, he appeared to be a little uncomfortable, staring at the white-and-blue space instead of his apprentice. His lips made this thin and pinched thing he did when he was pained. The seventeen-years-old boy prayed to the Force that he would stop himself. Qui-Gon appeared, however, ready to soldier on.

“You have the right to like him, Obi-Wan. In fact, you can pursue a physical or even a romantic relationship with an Omega of your choice - provided that you stay away from attachment and continue to put your duty before all. If it is a matter of… equipment, I have protections I can give to you. Shots acting as contraceptives and condoms. You won’t put anyone pregnant with that. It’s possible to have a healthy fun time.”

If Obi-Wan hadn’t put his belt on, he could have thrown himself out the airlock. He could feel his ears becoming as red as blood. “I know it, Master. But I didn’t want to have anything of the sort with Been Char.”

Qui-Gon continued as if he hadn’t heard his remark. “He was quite the fetching boy. A curious and educated Omega, truly fascinated by you. If you are interested, you don’t have to hide it from me, Obi-Wan.”

“But that’s the thing, Master,” the teenager interrupted, agitated by the way the conversation was going. “I wasn’t interested at all by Senator Char’s son.”

His teacher stopped insisting, focusing again on the ageing control panel. It was the end of this particular conversation. They didn’t talk about it again during their flight back home, but Obi-Wan had been able to feel his teacher’s gaze on him a few times afterwards.

Thoughtful.

…

Obi-Wan was twenty and he had never met anyone like Satine Kryze.

His Master and he had been dispatched on Mandalore to protect the heir to the throne, a young female Alpha with a stunner in her hands and durasteel eyes. The situation quickly went from bad to worst and they had to flee the capital city to save their life. They started to live on the run, hiding from the Duchess’ enemies whose chase seemed endless.

Satine was a hard woman with a heart full of hope. She was armed with words and spite, ready to move mountains with sheer will if needs be. She had a dream, of a peaceful Mandalore rising from its ashes life a fire-bird reborn. The Duchess wanted to change the whole society.

“We’re better than that, Obi-Wan. Mandalore is grander than unnecessary bloodbaths and petty acts of revenge. We’re past the time of glorified Alphas hunters and Omegas confined at home. I want equity. I want a judicial system regulated by new laws. I want to promote education, accessible for all. There are so many things to do…”

Obi-Wan loved to listen to her. Satine was a gifted orator. Had she lived a few centuries ago, he thought one night as he sat by the fire, she would have led armies to conquest the nearby systems with her powerful and moving words. She would have been unstoppable. A queen with a suit of armor as red as her blood, as absolute as her unshakable convictions.

Thank the Force, they lived in a more civilized time.

Satine stared at him, too. She wasn’t afraid of looking at him when the sun fell in the horizon, her gaze searching his over their campsite fire, her grey eyes burning embers in the dark. She peeked at him when he washed in the cold river, laughing when he crashed his little toe on a rock and swore loudly.

The Duchess was there. Ever watchful.

She stared without shame, without compromise. Sometimes, their eyes met and Obi-Wan could read a challenger in hers. _Would you dare…?_

One day, he did.

Her lips pressed against his were the sweetest thing he had ever known.

…

It had been months since Obi-Wan and his Master landed on Mandalore. Months since he had met the Duchess –and dozens of kisses laid upon his lips. They were back in the capital city once again, the rebels driven away from Mandalore, exiled on the moon of Concordia Dawn.

Obi-Wan stood in the crowd near Qui-Gon as Satine was crowned in the throne room. She talked to her people on the balcony, her smile a blinding star, full of hope and beliefs. The blue and white dress draping her shoulders undulated under the strong wing and her minty scent filled his senses, sketching an immortal figure. The festivities continued well into the night and the Padawan let his relaxed Master behind him. The sight of the man’s easy smile warmed his mind; it was been a while since he had last seen it. This long assignment in Mandalorian territories had been trying for everyone involved.

The young man was meditating in a quiet garden when Satine found him. She led him into empty corridors and private rooms, secrets and promises hidden in her grin. She closed the door of her bedroom behind him and pressed him against the durasteel wall, her teeth and love enclosing around his scent gland.

Her _minty-and-spicy_ desire invaded him, Alpha pheromones spreading in the air. Their clothes ended crumpled on the floor and threaded upon as Obi-Wan sat on her tights and caressed her hot skin.

It was better than anything he had imagined during his lonely ruts.

Satine seemed to have a precise idea of what she wanted. Maybe two Alphas in love weren’t taboo in her culture. Her self-confidence was a beacon and Obi-Wan was happy to follow her lead, this time. She strapped a soft leather harness on her hips as she kissed his neck, the young man’s hands mapping the underside of her small but heavy breasts.

Obi-Wan panted and clenched his legs around her waist as she filled him over and over, the leather rubbing the inside of his thighs. One of his hands covered the back of her neck while the other stroke her buttocks, guiding her thrusts. He feasted on her presence, on the minty Alpha scent tickling his nose, the pebbled nipples caressing his torso and the plastoid length pressing inside him.

This night had a taste of eternity.

…

Leaving Mandalore a few days later was difficult. Satine’s odour followed him around in their tiny starship, a remnant of the precious time spent in her company.

His teacher had looked at him strangely, the morning after. He had tried to sniff the air as discreetly as possible, his eyes widening as he double-checked his conclusion. His baffled face almost made Obi-Wan laugh.

That night, Obi-Wan had learned something precious. Some people tried to make the others believe there was a natural order everyone must follow. _Good_.

But he was his own person and he didn’t have to play by other’s rules.

…

Obi-Wan didn’t see Satine again. Time passed and missions blurred together. He was twenty-one and held the Duchess’ memory preciously in his heart.

He was twenty-two and he dared to check out a Mirialan Alpha in one of Coruscant’s mid-levels cantina. The man bought him a drink and they talked in a quiet booth until well into the night. His lean body spread on the white sheets made him think of ancient royalty’s pictures carved out from translucent green stone, like the ones exhibited in Aldera’s museums.

He was twenty-three and Qui-Gon’s rut happened earlier than expected due to a reaction to his medications. The Alpha didn’t have time to pack water and food; he just closed the door behind him as his scent bloomed and took a sharper edge. Obi-Wan prepared him something to eat on a tray, cutting fruits and cheeses in small bits, filling bottles and putting nuts in a bowl. Qui-Gon didn’t answer as he knocked on the door but the apprentice entered anyway, confident that the Alpha wouldn’t mind his presence. The man’s silhouette was half-hidden by the cover of the night –and a light blanket. The Padawan paused on the doorstep, watching out for his reactions. The sheets moved, but Qui-Gon made no aggressive movements towards him. Obi-Wan set down the tray near the bed and prepared to leave. When he raised his head, he realised the Alpha had turned towards him. His upper torso was denuded and sweaty, his pupils dilated and his hair surrounded his face like a messy crown. He did not move. He just stared. Obi-Wan left the room with his heart beating like a drum. _Oh_.

He was twenty-four and Obi-Wan had fully realised that the way he looked at his Master had changed. They were resting in a little village on Carlac, waiting for a new ship to continue their rather uneventful mission. Obi-Wan sat with the Elders, listening to their stories as the men and women embroidered large and colourful veils. Qui-Gon wasn’t seated with him. He was playing with the children down the grassy plain, kneeling in the dirt to make the kids laugh. The Alpha came to him afterwards with his muddy boots and tangled hair, a large smile on his face.  
Obi-Wan wondered how it would feel to kiss that grin.

He was twenty-five and he knew he was in love again. But his Master was unattainable. Obi-Wan remembered the man’s old flame, soft-spoken and knowledgeable Tahl. A brilliant Omega whose clear mind completed his teacher’s impulsive way of following the Force. The Padawan continued to stand three steps to his Master’s right, guarding his back faithfully, lovingly. But he never spoke the words haunting his heart.

After all, it was a game he had no chance to win. 

* * *

Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi breathed in deeply the fresh air of the evening. The sky was darkening, turning a deep shade of purple while the two irregular moons rose in the horizon. Qui-Gon stood beside him, head tilted backwards, catching a few raindrops on his closed eyelids. Behind them, a few dozens of clones were milling about, their plastoid boots splashing on the muddy ground.

“It was an eventful day,” his former Master commented.

“Quite. I’m glad we’re progressing quicker than expected; maybe this year, we’ll be able to spend your name day on Coruscant.”

Qui-Gon opened his left eye, looking pointedly at the Alpha. “You’ve got a strange sense of priorities, my dear. I wish to see you safe and sane more than I want to celebrate this ageing body. So please, refrain from running in front of your men, next time.”

The man spoke to him with a light tone but Obi-Wan wasn’t deceived by it. He could sense the tension lying beneath it like a rope wore thin.

“I knew I could make a difference.”

“They are other ways of making a difference, Obi-Wan. “ Qui-Gon laughed a bit. “You haven’t changed since that day on Bandomeer, when you laid out your life for me. I had hoped to teach you otherwise, but maybe I’ve failed here. You always were headstrong.”

The man shook his head, a half-smile on his lips. He stretched a hand to the left, touching his former apprentice’s elbow, his palm gliding down his forearm. His digits caressed the inside of Obi-Wan’s wrist, pausing here. Just over his heartbeat.

“I hope I’ve changed since then,” the Alpha joked. “I was quite the runt at thirteen.”

“You’ve grown a bit,” admitted Qui-Gon. “And you’ve become cheekier.” The Jedi Master looked at the silver moons rising over the dirty armored cars. He continued, quietly. “You know what I mean. Please, I don’t ask me to light your pyre, Obi-Wan. I’m too old to be scared like this.”

Qui-Gon wasn’t facing him. Obi-Wan could only see his profile, shaped by the silvery light of the celestial bodies rising in the sky. In his pale blue eyes, high cheekbones, dried lips and tangled beard, he found a wan and stagnant sadness. “They would ask me to do your eulogy –Anakin may have been your apprentice, but the Force knows that he didn’t inherit your silver tongue. He would mess it up –or shut up like a wounded shell. He’s still such an emotional boy. And what could I say in his steed?”

Obi-Wan shivered –from the declining temperature as well as from the intensity of the feelings rising inside him. _What a perceptive man._ Few people understood his former Padawan as well as Qui-Gon. Maybe because those men were both cut from the same rough cloth.

“You could talk about my good looks,” he suggested in a jest.

“I could”, Qui-Gon conceded. “Or perhaps I would mention your habit of changing the subject quite often during a conversation.”

Obi-Wan laughed out loud, closing his hand over the other Alpha’s fingers tenderly. They were large with blunt nails and hard calluses, grown during lightsaber practice and his free time in the Temple’s gardens. The wide palm warmed his cold digits.

“I will not let you burry me, Qui-Gon.”

His former Master had expressed doubts at the beginning of the Clone Wars. Doubts about the Senate’s intentions, about the Council’s decisions. About the Jedi’s place in this conflict which would certainly tear the galaxy apart. About light and darkness.

About Dooku, his own Master.

He had confessed his crisis of faith to Obi-Wan in his quarters, whispering a world of uncertainty on the faded couch, giving a name to the worries eating his sleep. Never had the man appeared so vulnerable, struck in his beliefs.

He had been faced with a terrible choice, one Obi-Wan had known during his apprenticeship. Staying. Or leaving.

The choice was finally easy to make. Qui-Gon had always cared so much. Facing the different possibilities, he always chose to help. That’s what made him a Jedi.

That’s what made him Qui-Gon.

He accepted his new title – _General_ , and boarded on his cruiser.

Obi-Wan didn’t know what it revealed about him. The young Jedi Master hadn’t hesitated after Geonosis. He had taken his seat on the Council, seized his lightsaber and adopted the light plastoid armor the Clones asked him to wear. He had embraced his new role on the battlefield. And to be honest, he was brilliant at it.

It was difficult for Obi-Wan to admit, but the war shed light on some aspects of himself that he wasn’t sure he liked. There was something in his veins, in his blood that rejoiced during the battle. Time passed strangely, otherworldly, as his blade deflected blaster fires, rose above his head and struck, leaving droid heads rolling on the floor. His pheromones went wild, the Force and his instinct guiding his sword against the scentless opponents. His muscles throbbed, his endurance infinite. He slashed at the enemy, avoided a shot and riposted. His heart and mind were peaceful, as should be a Jedi’s. But his blood, his cursed Alpha blood, still made him want to grin and show his teeth as he stabbed a B1 battle droid.

Obi-Wan repressed it, as well as he could. He clenched his teeth and continued to fight. Late at night, well after the battle, his jaw ached from his restrain.

He was Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Master, Council member. He was not an animal.

The Alpha never spoke about it to his former Master or to Cody. But he knew that he wasn’t the only one feeling this call for blood. He could see it in Qui-Gon’s haunted eyes, too.

It made him want to tuck the man’s head between his arms, just against his beating heart. To bury his fingers in this long silver-and-nuts mane.

Somebody made a throaty noise behind them and Obi-Wan pushed those thoughts aside. The two Jedi Masters turned around in time to see Qui-Gon’s Commander coming forwards.

“Generals. The patrols have been decided. We’re ready for the night.”

Obi-Wan saluted the man whose armor was dyed in the same emerald green as Qui-Gon’s breastplate. “Commander Tongue, it’s good to see you well. Were you able to gather all the fallen or do you need more manpower?”

The clone, bald with a crooked nose, shook his head slowly. “It’s done. The men are lightning the pyres as it is.”

“We’ll come to see them in a moment then,” Qui-Gon added lowly.

His second in command nodded silently.

Contrary to what his name seemed to mean, Commander Tongue was a quiet man. Despite Cody’s dearest wish, Obi-Wan had heard some of the wild legends circulating amongst the shinies. The youngest recruits had a tendency of creating a mythology about the chain of command.

Obi-Wan had, therefore, discovered that he was rumoured to hail from Shu-Torun; the reddish reflects his hair could have had been compared to the King’s fire-coloured mane. Added to his accent and presence, those _clues_ apparently demonstrated that he was a bastard from the royal family send to Jedi Order to save the lineage’s reputation.

 _Those men really had a wild imagination_.

At least, this idea was quite tame –contrary to the ones about Commander Tongue. The man would have gained his name thanks to his _tongue’s skills_. The poor clone had seemed exasperated when he had learned about it –and Qui-Gon had enjoyed to tease him about his reddened face.

Obi-Wan had learned the truth later, during his long recovery in the aftermath of the second battle of Geonosis. His ribcage had been a mess, bones broken and flesh pierced by his ship’s crash at Point Rain. Qui-Gon had kept him company in the medical corvette, filling his otherwise dull days.

Commander Tongue hadn’t talked for a very long time, on Kamino. Other brothers had wondered if he had a defect –to the point when his trainers almost decommissioned him. It would have been a shame –as the man was the only one able to bear his former Master’s mischief and maverick tendencies without breaking a sweat.

_My good man._

“Commander, after seeing the troops, General Kenobi and I will retire in my tent. We still have a few things to talk about. If there’s an emergency, you’ll be able to find us there.” Qui-Gon looked at him, his gaze heavy. Obi-Wan shivered. “We’ll rest and talk about old times.”

Commander Tongue didn’t blink in face of this wobbly excuse. “Of course, Generals. Take time to recover; tomorrow will be a new day.”

* * *

**The Knight.**

Obi-Wan was knighted by his Master.

Qui-Gon was diminished, tired and injured, recovering painfully from his encounter with the Sith’s blade. His face was thin, his cheekbones almost piercing through his skin –still, he stood up and took a few steps before his hoverchair, lightsaber in hand.

Master Windu’s voice echoed in the small and dark room. “Padawan Kenobi, your Master deemed you ready to explore the Force on your own. He, who accompanied you during all those years, who taught you the Code, chose to present you before us. Do you feel ready to swear your oath?”

Obi-Wan knelt at his former teacher’s feet. He could see the man’s hands tremble as he lighted his blade. His whole world turned green.

“Yes, I am.”

His braid fell on the ground silently.

When the young Knight rose, he did it as an equal to Qui-Gon Jinn.

…

His head was heavy –so heavy. Obi-Wan blinked sluggishly, rolling slowly on his side. The Knight could feel fresh linens around him and a fluffy pillow under his head.

He didn’t remember what happened. The last thing he knew, he was running with Anakin in Son-Tuul’s small and tortuous streets, avoiding the Cartel’s tugs. Then…

Blank.

Nothing.

Obi-Wan tried to concentrate but his mind remained hazy, his focus slipping away from him like water in a pierced pot. He moved his fingers on the sheets with difficulties, his hands trembling so hard, until they reached his face, his neck. The contact with his skin was strange, the sensation tenuous, coming from very far away. His nerves didn’t seem to work correctly.

The digits continued their course on his torso, meeting coarse bandages.

_Ah._

He made a tiny noise.

“Obi-Wan?” Someone was sitting near the bed.

The Jedi Knight squinted, trying to identify the blurry silhouette, without any luck. “Who...?”

The shadow took a few steps forwards until Obi-Wan’s hands were able to reach his. He could vaguely feel long fingers under his shaking digits, bitten nails and a wide palm. He demanded, almost certain: “Qui-Gon?” _What are you doing here, on Son-Tuul?_

His confusion must have shown through his tone and the man hushed him. “Try to relax, Obi-Wan. You’re still under drugs. You gave us quite a scare.”

His former’s teacher gentle rebuke made him feel a bit guilty. His voice came out as a rasp. “Ani...?”

“Anakin is fine; he’s resting in my quarters. We’re the fourth of the month; you’ve been treated in the Temple since the first.”

Obi-Wan sighed and let go of his hands, too tired to hold on. The other man sat on the bed beside him, fiddling with the cover. They stayed quiet for a long time and the Alpha’s laborious breathing appeared louder due to it. Qui-Gon finally stood up. “It seems my presence is preventing you to sleep. I’ll retire on the couch.”

Fear gripped his damaged guts. Obi-Wan fought against his _weak_ body and grabbed the man’s elbow. His hold was shaky at best and didn’t last long. It was enough as it made Qui-Gon froze.

_You’re mistaking. Your presence helps me. The medicine is messing with my head, with my whole body but I can’t sleep. I’m afraid. I feel like falling asleep would be akin to falling from the Council’s tower without a parachute. I’m not sure I’ll wake up afterwards._

Obi-Wan couldn’t say what he wanted. His jaw was slack and hard to move, his tongue a dead weight made painful by the teeth scraping it. He just whispered: “Don’t.”

Qui-Gon moved the chair to sit just beside the bed. With one palm, he caressed Obi-Wan’s sweaty hair. “Close your eyes. I’m here.”

The soft and rhythmic movement lulled him deeper into the fog. Obi-Wan clung to the present moment until his grasp slipped. He felt himself sinking deeper into the dark.

Still, this time he was roped with the hand soothing his hurt. He wasn’t left without a failsafe.

Obi-Wan let himself go as he felt Qui-Gon’s cool lips on his forehead.

…

Obi-Wan was thirty and _not_ ready to deal with his Padawan’s messy hormones. _Stars, Qui-Gon had it easy with him!_ _It was painful to watch the clueless boy flirt with the Senator’s help._

He was happy to let Anakin dally with her as he walked down the Temple’s corridors toward his former teacher’s quarters. It was a well-known path he often took these days during his free time.

Knowing he would be welcomed, always.

Obi-Wan couldn’t explain how their relationship shifted. There was no revelation, nor unnecessary drama. Qui-Gon and he just seemed to… come close together since Son-Tuul’s fiasco. Anakin was a moody teenager who loved his privacy; he was overjoyed to see his Master’s back as Obi-Wan spend more time with his former teacher. His apprentice had presented as an Alpha a year ago and Obi-Wan had quickly understood as the scent made him gag that he would have to find another place to stay during his Padawan’s ruts.

Qui-Gon had smiled at his predicament and offered him to settle down in his quarters.

Obi-Wan embraced their new proximity; after all, the two Alpha fit together effortlessly. They shared a blanket on the couch after their meal, knees rubbing against one other as they read obscure Jedi poems and laugh at the comments young Padawan Jinn had left in the margins. Obi-Wan cooked them spicy noodles when the dining hall only offered cabbage to the Order’s human members and listened to Qui-Gon trying himself at a Serennian percussion instrument, bend in his large ugly chair, as he meditated.

It was peaceful. It was lovely.

The two men still bickered a little. Obi-Wan often had to pick up Qui-Gon’s dirty socks who had been abandoned by their master on the rug as the man did not care much for his clothes’ destiny. In return, the man had to tone down his morning routine while Obi-Wan slept on the living room’s couch. Qui-Gon’s odour permeated the sofa’s fabric and Obi-Wan often rolled his face on it when he was alone, falling into the sweetest sleep he had known in months.

And amidst all of this –there were glances. Obi-Wan was not stupid. He could feel the weight of Qui-Gon’s eyes on him in the morning, when he hadn’t yet fixed his bedhead. He could feel it when he laughed at the man’s wrong notes, when he meditated. As if Qui-Gon was weighing the pros and the cons for something.

Each time Obi-Wan looked at him, he saw the Alpha’s gaze avoiding his, focused on his fork or his instrument as if he had never stared at him.

He did not speak about it.

Qui-Gon had always been careful with his heart. The man would come to him when he will feel ready.

One night, after a good diner that left their bellies full and distended, Qui-Gon hesitated in his bedroom’s doorway. He looked at Obi-Wan who was seating on the couch in his light tunic and pants, preparing himself to sleep.

“… Do you want to go to bed with me? You’ll be more comfortable on a real mattress.” The ridiculous man paused a second. He finally added something, as if he had to justify his proposition. “I’ve seen you in the dojos yesterday and a bed would clearly do wonders on your back.”

“Are you criticizing my forms?” The young Knight answered, falsely outraged.

Obi-Wan smiled warmly as he followed Qui-Gon into his bedroom, his heart beating fast and hard in his chest while he distractedly teased the man.

The Alpha’s large body took a lot of place on the bed but Obi-Wan discovered that he could fit easily if he curved around Qui-Gon’s back. He could feel the man’s heartbeat against his own and heard his slow breathing.

Obi-Wan’s head rested beside Qui-Gon’s neck, his former teacher’s scent filling his mind. He felt his muscles relaxed and his heart quietened as he fell asleep.

 _Oh,_ Obi-Wan thought. _Isn’t it heavenly?_

…

Their first kiss was sweet. The second, sweeter. 

* * *

**The Master.**

The beige flap was tied to close the tent’s entrance. Beyond it, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon could vaguely hear the sound of the rain and the clone patrol’s feet wading through the mud.

They did not listen to it.

Instead, Obi-Wan savoured the sound of their meeting flesh, the wet noises of the precum spread on their bellies and Qui-Gon’s panting against his mouth. They rocked against each other on the thin bedroll provided by the army, swallowing their moans, trying _so hard_ to be quiet.

They don’t have the time nor the opportunity to do anything too ambitious. But –Stars! Obi-Wan didn’t care about that.

He loved the way Qui-Gon’s cock throbbed against his, the way his hips pinned his on the groundsheet, the mess his glans made on his stomach. Obi-Wan kneaded the man’s buttocks, encouraging and guiding his thrusts as the bedroll wrinkled beneath his back.

Qui-Gon nipped his lips, moaned into his mouth before he bent his head and sucked at the soft skin behind his ear. Alphas didn’t have mating glands; they couldn’t bond to each other like an Omega could have wanted to. But it didn’t matter.

Qui-Gon and he knew how to left marks behind them if they wanted to.

His partner bit his collarbone as Obi-Wan hissed, pressing his nails into the tense flesh of his butt. The auburn-haired man bucked, mouth opened wide as Qui-Gon wrapped a hand around their knots, cradling them together.

He gasped –a little noise drowned by the rain outside, followed by Qui-Gon’s moan muffled against his nipple. His legs trembled, feet gliding on the ground as come splattered on their bellies.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and died a little in Qui-Gon’s arms.

…

Anakin panted a bit beside her as he tried to find his breath again. Padme smiled, stretching her arms above her head. Then she let them fell on the bed. “It’s good to see you again, Ani. I was worried during your last campaign. You didn’t send me any message. Were you alright?”

Her bonded’s face, who had been relaxed and playful a few moments ago, became tensed again. His eyebrows created a wrinkle between his eyes. _Ah. She shouldn’t have asked that. For once, they were having a calm night together at her flat…_

“It’s Obi-Wan. I saw something on Saleucami. I-” Anakin turned towards her. “–I just can’t forget it.”

Then he shut up like a shell. Just looked at her with his big sad eyes.

 _She will have to make him speak, wouldn’t she?_ Yes, she could bury her problem-free night in the dirt. “What did you see?”

“I saw a bite on his neck. And scented Qui-Gon’s odour on his tunics.”

“On his tunic?” Padme asked slowly. “And why did you scent his tunics?”

The Alpha went bright red from embarrassment. _This is where things start to become fun._ “I was searching for a clean top as I didn’t have any more.” He spoke quickly and the senator had to concentrate to understand him well. “I can’t take Qui-Gon’s as they’re even worse than mine. But Obi-Wan is a clean-freak! I was sure I would be able to find something to wear in his tent! But then I scent this, and I remembered the bite I had seen on his neck in the morning… _Oh_ _poodoo,_ they’re having something together, aren’t they?”

Padme paused, weighing his words. _Master Kenobi. And Master Jinn_.

Oh.

“It must be the war –mustn’t it? I mean, we’re all searching for familiar figures, a source of comfort. He can’t be –you know…” Anakin fiddled with his mechanical hand, opening and closing the lower compartment. “I would have known it, no?”

Moments like this one reminded her that despite his apprenticeship on Coruscant, Anakin had lived his formative years on conservative, hard and dangerous Tatooine.

“Perhaps I should present him to someone. I could find a more appropriate partner for him; someone he could turn to. We could organize a meeting with one of your Omega friends! There’s–you know, the quiet one. What’s his name already… Bail Organa? He’s intelligent and refined –just like my Master.” Anakin gained confidence as he exposed his plan to her. “Yes, I think he’d be perfect!”

The Alpha smiled like her, visibly proud of his idea. As if he had _fixed_ something. _Dear ancestors, that’s not going to be fine._

Padme sighed and buried her hands behind the sheets. “I think you shouldn’t interfere with Master Kenobi’s love life. He’s old enough to know what he needs –and what he wants. Just –go to sleep Anakin. And please, don’t bother the man with your idea. It’s disrespectful. When I think you went into his tent to steal him his clothes…”

Padme rubbed her head on her pillow and closed her eyes.

_She loved this man. But by the ancestor! –sometimes, he was really insufferable._

…

Obi-Wan breathed in Qui-Gon’s scent, hiding his nose in the hollow of his neck. Qui-Gon held his naked body against his, an arm curled around his waist. He could smell their lovemaking in the air, could feel the dull pain coming from the bites on his collarbone and on his shoulder. The other Alpha’s blue eyes glowed with happiness.

Their relationship was glorious, beautiful if quiet and discrete. They lived in dangerous and difficult times, after all. It was also everything Obi-Wan couldn’t have dreamt to have, all those years ago, when he had discovered that there was more to the world than what he knew.

“Are you going to sleep, now, Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon whispered in his ear. “Tomorrow will be a long day.”

Obi-Wan nuzzled the man’s torso and kissed the sweaty patch of skin below his nipple, just above his beating heart.

He closed his eyes, at peace.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to leave a kudo or a comment, even short, if you liked this work -which was so important for me! I'll be forever grateful! <3


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